


Dragon Age Zombie AU

by Bearkin



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M, Mild Gore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-02
Updated: 2018-03-02
Packaged: 2019-03-25 21:10:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13843110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bearkin/pseuds/Bearkin
Summary: Cole/Inquisitor OC, set in a zombie infested University AU. Cole is a middle class citizen struggling to get good grades at Kirkwall University. He works at the coffee shop there, but keeps getting flustered with the football jock Greg (Inquisitor OC) coming to the coffee shop. Figuring out his sexuality is task enough, but to make it all worse, bodies are rising from their graves just outside the school grounds.





	Dragon Age Zombie AU

Chapter 1 

Cole rushed across the parking lot. His small body slipping through the busy crowd. A bright red apron was balled up in his fist, and panic sent a small sheen of sweat under his bright red visor, wetting his pale blonde hair. He was already late, and he didn’t know how he’d possibly get to the food shack in time. Damn Bus schedule, he should have known better, it was always the worst on Game Day. At the head of the parking lot loomed a steel football stadium, with big screens on two sides that showed the players getting ready for the start of the game. Cole cursed again. The doors had definitely opened by now if the players were on the field already, meaning his boss was dealing with hordes of customers with only Solas to help him.

To make it worse, today was a very special game too. The Kirkwall Bears vs. the USU Aggies. The talk across the whole campus, even those who hated football, was how the Bears would win the game. With a debuting kicker, a guy named Krem, people were excited to see how things lined up. Krem was a big deal on Campus, as he was the first Trans boy to be put on the team. He was also well known because he was a major flirt to any ladies he saw. It didn’t hurt that his back up was the bulky pillar of muscle nicknamed Iron Bull. Iron Bull was the defensive tackle on the football team, a man so mysterious his real name was a well-kept secret for friends and friends only. Cole, however, did know, and they were not friends.

As Cole bustled up the stairs and around the straggling fans, his mind wandered to the night he was let in on the unknown. It was last Friday night, 2 AM, and Cole was fast asleep wrapped in a layer of a fluffy blanket. He had been whispering things into the darkness soberly, his lips puckered and slightly drooling.

“She’s alone again, in the darkness her heart hurts more than ever. Even though he is not there, he still harms her. Why did he leave her?”

His door cracked open loudly, and a very drunk Dorian blustered through. He unwound his scarf sloppily and ripped off his nice jacket, tossed both to the middle of the room. Loudly he kicked off his doc boots, and leaned over to look at his Yuri on Ice socks, doing absolutely nothing to take them off.Taking off his Doc boots but leaving on his Yuri on Ice socks.Then realized quickly what he was doing and turned to his roommate. 

“Cole!” He tried to whisper, but he definitely shouted.

Cole whined rubbing his face into his pillow. “What?”

Dorian plopped onto Cole’s bed, holding both of Cole’s hands platonically. “I know his name! I found out, the one and only, Iron Bull’s name, Cole!”

Dorian hovered over Cole with flushed cheeks, dazed eyes, and a crooked smile under that thick mustache. He was waiting for the boy to respond as he woke up. 

“Well, do you want to know or not?” Dorian asked slightly offended as Cole’s silence dragged on. “This is key information I’m going to be spending on you, you know?”

Cole laughed courteously, he had to be up by 7. Any sane person would be infuriated and tell him to shove off, but Dorian was so excited Cole couldn’t leave him hanging, even if it was inconsiderate.

“I suppose so, yes.”

“His names Bag- Baghel!” Dorian stammered. “Like a bagel, Cole! The Iron Bull is actually this fluffy hole people eat for breakfast.” He paused, pursing his lips, than burst out laughing, bumping his forehead into Cole’s shoulder. He flung his head up, smacking it into Cole’s chin. “Sorry, that did not come out right.” Dorian then curled up in Cole’s lap, grinning again. “Not for everyone, just me,”

Dorian had a big top knot that was coming loose, Cole pet his long hair as Dorian curled deeper into Cole’s lap. Cole and Dorian were nothing more than friends, but College was such a lonely place. Cole felt so lonesome, he kind of loved how cuddly Dorian was with him. He was slightly ashamed of how much he had been missing it. He never told Dorian he was, and Dorian had his suspicions. He was glad that Dorian was a cool enough guy to leave Cole to his own secrets.

“That’s, great, Dorian.” Cole said but paused, Dorian was already snoring gently.

That, however, was a distant memory and Cole pulled himself from it, as he finally pushed through the side door of the coffee shop. The line was already crammed to the far wall, congesting the walkway, so some fans were blocked from their seats.  
Rushed, Cole put on his bright red apron and adjusted his red visor with a bear pinned onto it. He washed his hands quickly, preparing himself for the mountain of work laid out in front of him. Working in food sometimes felt like fighting a small battle, sometimes even a war, and the coffee shops landmines were already exploding. Milk was frothing, and spitting, espresso beans grinding, and blenders roaring angrily in their cages.

“Look who decided to show.” Varric said with a grin.

A stout man with pale skin, and blonde hair dashed across all of it. His long blonde hair was pulled back in a tight top knot. He was in the middle of making two lattes, a mocha, a banana chocolate smoothie, and a bagel, if all that was not enough. Varric was a nice manager, said he worked in food to pay for his degree, but he’d been in Uni for 6 years now, and nothing more than an associate’s was to be seen yet. He had published a few books, however, they were not of the highest quality. Cole read one once called, “Hard time in Moscow,” a sexualized novel about a secret agent who turns on his embassy and dates four women at the same time. Cole didn’t read all of it, he could not get pass the hot tub scene. 

“I thought you finally cracked and just decided to quit.” Varric joked, pouring one of the drinks into a cup.

“I couldn’t do that to you guys. Sorry I’m late, Game Day bus schedules are... basically always incorrect. Do you want me to ring up?”

“Why not, can’t hurt to relieve angry baldy for a moment. Maybe it’ll cheer him up.” Varric said.

Cole walked up to the register, but doing so earned him a glower from the snooty Art History major, with a lit minor. Solas’s glare had Cole quickly changing his mind about switching spots, and he instead turned to the blender to start on the smoothie.

Game days were the roughest. It was always so busy at the start, and the rush kept up till after half-time. This meant dealing with herds of customers coming at a constant onslaught. Five people would come at once, and they were angry if their drink wasn’t the first one out on the bar. Cole always buried the feelings deep inside his stomach, the anxiety of having too many people at once, especially the angry ones, and making them madder by being slow. It was a feeling Cole could never really adjust to.

The stress must have read on his face, because mid-rush, Cole heard a customer say, “Is he okay?”

It was a bulky football player, he stood at 6 feet tall, skin pale with red freckles dashed across his cheeks like cinnamon topping, and as bright as the red curly hair on his head. He was wearing the bright red football uniform and everything.

“Aren’t you supposed to be out on the football field?” Solas grumbled.

“I’m not going in till the second half.” His name was Greg, a defensive linemen, who was a part of Iron Bull and Krem’s posse. Cole had seen him around, but was too shy to talk to him. However, the boy always made an effort to talk to him.

“You good man?” He repeated to Cole with a crooked grin.

Cole had always thought he was quite handsome, and seeing how nice Greg was to others only made his infatuation grow. Cole’s pale skin flushed as he froze at the coffee bar, smoothie blender in hand. Greg’s smile wavered curiously, as Cole struggled to talk. Cole swallowed hard, eyes darting away from Greg’s before opening his mouth to speak.

“Yeah,” Solas butt-in heartlessly, “It’s just a rush man. Anything else I can get you?” 

Greg couldn’t take his eyes off of Cole, and Cole really wished he would stop. “Yeah, totally. Thanks man.”

“So there’s something else?” Solas asked.

Greg jolted clearly not paying attention to Solas at all. “What? Oh, no. My bad dude, just the smoothie.” He stammered uncomfortably scratching the back of his head, grinning.

“So that’ll be one smoothie,” Solas said. 

Cole had to close his eyes and remind himself what he was doing, but when he started making another smoothie, he fucked up the ingredients and had to start over. He couldn’t help it, it was Greg, just standing over there. He could practically feel Greg’s eyes on him and it was freaking him out. Cole began to sweat, realizing Greg was probably seeing his fuck-ups. Then shakily blended the smoothie, fucking up the amounts of ingredients, again. He dejectedly handed Greg a 2nd rate chocolate banana smoothie.

“Thanks for coming in.”

Greg’s giant fingers brushed his as he grabbed the shake. “Course dude, I’m sure it’s great.” Cole nodded in agreement, desperately, hiding his eyes under his visor until Greg walked away. He then turned away to make another smoothie. 

It must have been a lucky drink, because that night Greg blocked four crucial passes, and gave his team the chance to win. They did, but only by going into overtime and a risky play where Iron Bull was handed the ball, and dove through for the touchdown, barely making it by the ball’s length alone.

However, for boring workers like Cole the time passed much more slowly. After the game and the after crowd, the time was close to midnight, and Varric and Cole had barely finished closing up the café. Varric knew Cole’s living situation, so he gave the kid a ride home. His red squeaky pick-up truck drove up to a curb at the edge of a graveyard, the cheaper housing was behind that. This was where Cole lived.

“You sure you don’t want me to drive you up to your apartment?” Varric asked. “This graveyard looks nothing short of a Stephen King novel."

Varric was always protective of Cole. The kid needed someone to look after him, he was too damn sweet and strange.

“No, it’s okay,” Cole mumbled. “I like listening to the graveyard. These hours you can really hear things.”

Varric grimaced, “Okay, if you say so man.” Varric was one of the few people who listened to Cole with an open mind. But still only believed half of the things the boy said, must be psychedelics, he thought. Varric wished it were drugs, that would actually make sense. 

Cole waited for Varric to unlock the passenger door, and then left.

“Good luck on your test tomorrow.” Varric said before the door shut.

“Thanks,” Holding up the black coffee Cole brought home. “Unfortunately, I will need it.”

Varric left in his roaring truck, leaving a cloud of burning carbon behind him. Cole was alone in the dark, holding his school bag over one shoulder. He turned to the graveyard and sighed calmly, he liked to soak himself in the blackness. Others would surely view the cemetery as the bleak and ominous sheet of dead bodies and wandering spirits it was. But that was precisely why Cole liked it, now wasn’t it?

He hiked up the sloped green hill talking to a spirit or hearing someone’s emotions, no one really knew. But, when he left the shadows of the tree-lined trail, his chatter abruptly stopped. In the distance was light he wasn’t used to, red, like tail lights. He thought it might be teenagers, who needed anywhere besides their houses to be alone and kiss. But then he felt a strange emotion attached to it.

Cole was an empath in this day and age. He could always tell what others were feeling, even the occasional spirit in need of his guidance and help. He did not tell anyone because they would make fun of him if he did, a psychic and an empath is a lot to swallow at once. At least Varric entertained his ideas.

The thoughts from the red light came in harsh whispers on the wind, it was abrupt confusion, anger, and a sorrow about being left behind. The farther up the hill he got, the lights revealed that there was a woman slouched against a tree. She stamped one foot in an attempt to walk, digging her head into the bark grinding her forehead up and down the rough surface.

Her mind was so fuzzy, Cole was having a hard time making sense of it. She saw the tree as some strange door she had to open, but didn’t know how to unlock it. She was so stupid, not just ignorant, but she was trying to think through missing gaps in her rotting brain. Her forehead was scraped raw, she had been grinding it against the bark for hours probably, but no blood fell.

She called out a name in her mind, and connected to that name was a man in a suit. Bright smile, soft lips encircled in facial hair, his muscular chest pressed against her back. And while all of these thoughts encased her being, he saw flashes of perfectly seared steak, savory, salty, dipped in a sauce of its own blood. Eating chicken legs that left grease stamped on your fingers, as she dug meat off of the hard bone with her canines.

“Steven,” She hissed in her mind. “Steven, I must find Steven.”

Cole strolled nearer, not nearly as scared as he should have been. Why would he be, in his mind this was some wandering spirit that needed Cole’s help to pass onto the afterlife. Her thoughts asked for Steven, but her mouth did nothing more than hiss a guttural hint of that word.

“You are okay.” He said palms up. “I can help you, okay? Let’s find your Steven.” Cole said.

Her stench was awful, and she and her clothes were covered in dirt. The woman was in a simple burgundy colored dress, laced with a fine edge of flowers found only on a grandmother’s table cloth. Still, the glowing red blossomed from her body, it was in her fingernails, inside her body, and from her mouth especially. Shining like a flashlight held under a finger, the red glowed behind her thin and transparent cheeks.

“Steven?” She called out, limping on that right foot gently, as she turned to Cole.

“No, but I can help you find him...”

When she faced him, Cole lost his breathe, and his shoulders shot up. A pale skull with thin but very long hair falling past her elbows turned to him. Her eyes were sunken back so far into her skull, that they were little more than two wells of black. The flies buzzed around her, and slobber dripped down her chin. She opened her mouth to reveal red shards for teeth, and the red grew around her lips like a bad outbreak of herpes. She groaned as a glimmer of a smile tried to slip across her lips. In her mind her harsh words spoke slowly.

“Steeeee-vvvven.” She called and lurched at Cole, snapping and biting at him with her teeth.

He flinched back calling for help, the clicking of her teeth snapped once as he fell onto his back. The mildew dampened his pants, as she stumbled over to him. She fell onto his body gnawing for him, Cole clasped his hands to her cheeks keeping her back. Drool slobbered over him as he held her head.

“Stop this! I don’t want to hurt you.” Her fingers reached up through his arms and pulled on his hair scraping at his ears.

“Hey! I said stop this!” His feet kicked as she yanked on his hair. “I’m warning you!”

With watery eyes, Cole got a firmer grip on her jawline.

“I am so sorry,” He whispered, as he then twisted his arms as hard as he could. There was a sharp crack as her neck snapped, and her head fell limp.

She fell off of his body, but only because of the numbed yet present pain in her neck. When Cole saw her move he got up and began walking backwards. She stumbled up to her knees and wobbled towards him.

“You need help, you need my help, please!” He called.

She still pressed on walking towards him. Head dangling like a broken twig. This spirit was terrible, she had to be a demon at this point, and Cole didn’t know how to help her. His eyes darted from side to side, maybe Steven was buried here with her, maybe he could unite them somehow, and she would pass on.

That was when a hand shot up from the graves, and clasped onto Cole’s ankle. Cole panicked, he had to get out of here, had to get to his house. Somehow be free from her. So he kicked his way out of the grey things grasp, and broke into a sprint. Being the lunatic he was he ran towards the girl, and his home. He swerved out of the way as she slashed for him. Her aim was true and she sliced his shirt and skin. Blood gushed from his ribs as he clenched a fist around the fabric.

His heart throbbed in his ears and his nerves were bursting on overdrive as he ran away from her. He twisted his head for an instant to look back at her, and she was keeping pace with him, not more than five feet away. This thing was running after him, snapped neck and all.

Cole let out a scream for help and tears began to flush down his red cheeks. It was a high pitched and a gut clenching scream. He yelled at the top of his lungs. He was heading back toward the busy street right before his dormitory. The cars were zipping by at 40 mph but he didn’t care, she was so close to him, and her head bounced in the most traumatic way, the image of it was burned into his eyes.

He got to the road, and saw a semi-truck heading his way. He didn’t care, he was like a cat recklessly racing a car across the street. The gigantic truck honked obnoxiously, waking up everyone on the block. Cole made it to the other side, but then heard the splat of the girl’s rotted flesh hitting the truck. Her body was torn apart at the blast of the cars hood. Cole heard the mess of flesh and bone splatter across the asphalt like a spilled plate of spaghetti.

One more scream roared out of his throat, as he darted into the dormitory hallway and slammed the door shut behind him. With his back pressed against the hardwood, and a lingering pool of tears filled his blue eyes he stared down the hallway, and tried to comprehend what the hell had just happened. And as he did, those grey hands dipped in red reached from their graves and towards the sky. Freed from their prisons of wood, red, and dirt, coming for the ones they lost, to be with them, and digest them.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, hope you liked it. I put a lot of heart into this and hope it was a fun read. Let me know your critiques, but be gentle on me, I'm new to this game.


End file.
